Blue
by BlueDecembers19
Summary: "And blue, for them, is the beginning, the middle, and the end. The past, the present, And the future. Is there really a definite end? Or just infinity? Some infinities are smaller than others." Freeverse poetry - for Percy's birthday.


**A/N: This is probably the happiest poem/ one-shot I've ever written. Read my other ones if you'd like, although they may depress you a little. Anyway… with poetry, I like to explore different styles, different ways of writing them, so expect something else next time. **

**This is a poem, obviously, like many others, for Percy's birthday and Percy and Annabeth's anniversary. What's funny is that although for most of you it's still August 18****th****, it's actually the 19****th**** for me, so I'm a little behind the times :)**

_Summary: And blue, for them, is the beginning, the middle, and the end. The past, the present, And the future. Is there really a definite end? Or just infinity? Some infinities are smaller than others._

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Percy Jackson and the Olympians **_**or the scientific-sounding line – which was from Wikipedia or the line about infinity – from John Green's **_**The Fault in Our Stars.**_

**Anyways… Read and Review :) **

* * *

**Blue**

Blue. Azure. Cyan.

Cerulean. Midnight. Teal.

Blue is the colour of the sea.

Or is it?

Is it blue or green or grey?

Blue is also the colour of light between violet and green on the visible spectrum.

And blue,

For them,

Is the beginning,

The middle,

And the end.

The past,

The present,

And the future.

Is there really a definite end?

Or just infinity?

Some infinities are smaller than others.

* * *

The Beginning – The Past

The boy, he sat there

On the dilapidated bench,

Tapping his feet to the rhythm

Of the sea.

His long legs dangled, stretched over the sides

As he leaned his hand on his cheek,

His obsidian hair flopping in the flirting breeze.

And he sat there,

Hoping for her to come.

She smirked and ambled over.

Her long hair, like ropes of spun gold,

Danced.

She held a cake –

A birthday cake.

A _blue_ birthday cake.

Which they ate.

Her grey eyes sparkling with joy, above the layers

Of death and betrayal and loss.

And you know what happened next:

The kiss, the invasion, the lake.

And it all started with blue.

* * *

The Middle – The Present.

She sits on the crumbling, stone steps.

Her collar is itching as she tugs upon it ferociously.

Her uniform is hot and sticky and oppressive.

She longs for the freedom of the sun, the sky and the sea.

She longs for those languorous days

Where they lay on the sand,

Breathing in tandem.

And the silence.

The whispers of the sky and the sea.

Blue.

She sketched something in that notebook of hers,

As she cursed him for never being punctual.

'Seaweed Brain,' she mutters with vehemence,

Followed by a string of expletives in a lost language, most do not know.

I'd rather not translate.

Her eyes light up as she gathers her things,

Temporarily forgetting her anger at him,

When she sees him

For the first time in a week, but it feels like years.

He drives up – or rather _zooms_

In his Maserati Spyder.

His _blue_ Maserati Spyder.

He steps out and her heart is hammering.

His white shirt,

Black, leather jacket

And _blue_ jeans.

And deliciously ruffled hair – not that she'd ever tell him so.

She watches, simmering in jealousy – although she would never admit it,

As the girls fawn over him.

Gasps of shock, disbelief and indignation,

As he pushes past them to her.

She smirks.

And she takes his arm, waves goodbye triumphantly

And anticipates the summer they will have.

A summer with skies of blue, seas of blue and

Blue.

* * *

The End – The Future

Blue will be the hue of the tumultuous sea,

And the colour seeping into the twilight,

When they exchange their vows for each other.

Blue will be the colour of the house they buy.

A small, stone house.

Blue will be the colour of the ring he gives her.

Sparkling sapphire.

Blue will be what they name their firstborn.

A beautiful girl

With blonde hair and green eyes.

Blue.

They will hold in their hearts forever,

Blue.

* * *

Is there really a definite end?

Or just infinities within infinities within more infinities?

Is there always a definite beginning

A definite middle

A definite end?

Orientation,

Complication,

Resolution.

The past – resonated pain, loss and buried emotions.

The present – brings relief, love, promise

And the future – will hold the ability for anything.

The possibilities are infinite.

But it all started with

Blue.


End file.
